


The metamorphosis of Jack Dalton Junior

by starrylizard



Series: Jack Junior [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016), Kid Fic, wee!Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26294446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylizard/pseuds/starrylizard
Summary: Jack walks into the wrong lab at the wrong time.
Series: Jack Junior [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910533
Comments: 47
Kudos: 35





	1. Reaper

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this to coincide with the the "drugged jack weekend" over on Tumblr. Jack is drugged, though I doubt this is what the challenge creators had in mind.

**Chapter 1: Reaper**

The laboratory was deserted. A shredder had clearly been put to intensive use in one corner, several hard drives were swimming in something like acid nearby. Jack moved methodically forward, clearing the space as he went. Someone with a lot more patience than him would need to figure out if any of the destroyed files were salvageable.

“Basement Level 3, North side clear,” he stated.

He kept moving, efficiently sweeping each room, gun at the ready. Mac and Riley were carefully trailing a couple of rooms behind him. He could hear them occasionally pointing out something of interest over the open comm. The power was still on, and if it weren’t for the lack of people and the occasional very deliberate destruction, you’d never guess it had, until yesterday, been a top-secret laboratory run by some nutter who liked to experiment on innocent civilians. He apparently drew them in with promises of a _fountain of youth_. The bodies they’d found in a makeshift morgue one floor up, shrivelled up and old like something straight out of _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ , seemed to indicate he wasn’t able to provide on that particular promise. 

“Okay, I’m heading down to Basement 4. You kids still following?”

“Yep, still here.”

“Right behind you, big guy,” came the distracted replies.

“Okay, careful what you touch, alright? I mean it.”

Jack waited until he heard some more mumbled agreement and figured that was all he was going to get. It was a nice change in a way, having both Mac and Riley so distracted by the areas he’d already cleared that he was allowed to do his job efficiently and without bother. Nobody was running on ahead or causing him to worry like some kindergarten teacher on a field trip. But his helicopter parent mode was running because he also hated not being able to see what Mac, in particular, was touching in the labs he’d already cleared. It was times like these he just had to remind himself the dude was almost thirty and mostly capable of looking after himself . . . mostly, except when he blew things up, or pressed buttons, or . . . Okay one more floor to clear, then he’d make his way back and make sure nothing was about to blow up, at least not without him knowing about it.

Jack jogged down the next stairwell, carefully checking each turn and peering up and then down into the space below, forcing himself to relax and just enjoy the rare freedom to just do his thing.

“Stairwell clear,” he reported.

He pounded open the door to Basement Level 4, leading as always with his weapon. Still just eerily silent, well-lit labs. He checked the corners and any possible dark spots, before proceeding down the south corridor.

“Still no signs of life. Moving south,” he reported. Matty and the geeks back at base would be interested, even if Mac and Riley had clearly tuned his business chatter out.

The end of the corridor led to one huge room unlike any the floor plan he’d cleared already, and Jack whistled appreciatively at the size even as he continued to efficiently clear it. Of course, that would get MacGyver’s attention.

_“Something interesting, Jack?”_

“Something different for sure,” he answered, still preoccupied with clearing the room.

There was a large, damned if he knew what it was, in the middle of the open space. Something like a glass cage crossed with giant snow globe. The floor inside the device was lit with some sort of gently glowing underfloor panel lighting. The dome over the cage was something like glass, with a veritable faraday cage of fine wiring running through it.

_“Jack?”_ MacGyver’s voice came over the comms again, as Jack was carefully clearing the machinery around the giant creepy snow globe.

“There’s a giant, I dunno, machine of some sort down here. Looks like the creepiest of snow globes. Just let me finish clearing the floor, before you come running. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

_“When do you ever have a good feeling about anything, Jack?”_ Riley asked, with a gentle snort. _“Giant creepy snow globe? Really?”_

“So, I don’t have a scientifically accurate name for this thing. It’s what it looks like, kiddo. And I mean it, let me finish clearing the floor, before . . .”

Jack paused as something moved in his peripheral vision. Something inside the big dome-looking contraption. He spun, peering inside as he shifted toward the only opening in the cage. Inside, a piece of something fluttered in a breeze from an underfloor vent fan. Chocking the door open with a microscope from a nearby bench, Jack cautiously moved inside. He edged toward what was now obviously, _shit!_ The piece of paper landed; the words scrawled on it were easily legible in the bright lighting.

**_‘Got you!’_ **

Jack spun and lunged for the door, but not fast enough as it was kicked closed by a beanpole of a man. The man was dressed more like an office worker in an oversized shirt and basic brown trousers, but Jack had a feeling this was the nutter of a scientist that had been, until yesterday, running this shit show. The man pushed his glasses back on his face, cackling with glee. Jack felt goosebumps run the full length of his body. There was nothing good about this situation.

“Perfect. You’re perfect. Not these volunteers they made me use, all weak with cancer and riddled with disease. You’re just perfect. I mean you’re maybe 45, fit healthy. Yes? No health conditions I should know about? Perfect. They’ll see it works; you just wait.”

Jack yanked, beat and kicked at the cage entrance like a wild animal, screaming with frustration, but to no avail.

“Let me out!” he bellowed.

The door wasn’t locked in any obvious fashion, which meant it may well be some sort of electric lock. Magnetically sealed. Maybe something MacGyver could get through, but. . .

_‘Jack? We’re coming, what’s going on? Jack?’_

“Reaper!” Jack yelled, knowing the words would reach anyone on the open comm. “Reaper you hear me. Get out now! Leave me. It’s not safe.”

Jack tried shooting at the door, but the bullet ricocheted around the room and he was forced to dive to the floor feeling lucky not to have given himself a few new holes.

“Now, now, calm down little man. I’m going to give you a whole new chance at life. You will be the proof of concept I need. You’ll see. Immortality. And all it costs is a little pain, hmm. . . nothing a big guy like you can’t handle. Not like those other weaklings of specimens.”

The manic-bean-pole of a man started hitting levers and buttons and a white gas started pumping into the dome via the fan ducts on the floor, the ones the paper had been caught in before. Jack took several quick oxygenating breaths and then held it like he’d been taught in dive school, redoubling his efforts to open the door any way possible.

The man continued his monologue, seemingly unperturbed by Jack’s efforts. “It’ll hurt less if you just breathe it in, if you’re already out cold when I hit this button,” he continued.

Jack froze where he was pounding on the glass, as the man’s crazy blue eyes stared into Jack’s own through the dome’s glass and wire pane. Jack suddenly had the deeply disturbing sense of how a bug must feel, trapped in a bug catcher as someone looked excitedly in at their latest catch.

“Your choice!” the man cried and without breaking eye contact, he hit the button.

Jack screamed and stumbled backward. He felt his back hit the floor as pure agony stabbed through his entire being, every nerve ending, every muscle fibre was on fire. As his now empty lungs tried valiantly to suck in air, he coughed and choked on the white gas that was now so thick he couldn’t see anything beyond it. In between screams and moans, he heard himself begging for mercy. A darkness crept in on his vision, like a tunnel with a bright white cloud at the end and with a final scream, the world went mercifully black.

\-----

Riley flipped through the data on a laptop she’d found still intact. Clearly these people had been untrained in proper destruction techniques or in a very big hurry; maybe both. Not everything was destroyed. Likely most of what they’d tried to destroy could be put back together with a little effort.

“This guy sure was obsessed with the aging process. There’s data here on telomeres, gene editing, pluripotent cells, growth hormones . . . The list goes on.”

MacGyver hummed acknowledgement, taking in the information with interest while poking at a nearby machine, the purpose of which was not yet clear. He was doing it quietly, because somehow Jack had a sixth sense for this sort of thing and he’d probably try to slap Mac’s hands away from it if they weren’t currently in different locations.

“The brief did suggest the research revolved around halting the ageing process, maybe reversing it. Codename: Eternal. I mean, it’s not that original, but if that’s your purpose then . . .

Mac paused as he heard Jack pause in his exceedingly boring commentary to base and instead let out a surprised sort of whistle over the comms. Mac knew that sound.

“Something interesting, Jack?”

_“Something different for sure,”_ came Jack’s exceptionally cryptic reply.

“Jack?” Mac asked with attitude. He rolled his eyes at Riley, silently nodding his head toward the stairs. Riley grinned and started walking even as she shoved her equipment back into her backpack.

By the time Jack had described a ‘giant snow globe machine’- which was extra inventive and yet still completely cryptic, even for Jack- Mac and Riley had reached the stairs. And yeah that was the opposite of Jack’s instructions, but there was a reason Jack clearly felt the need to give said instructions, because Mac and Riley often ignored them, like now.

Then Jack started yelling like a mad man, and Mac and Riley started running all the while frantically calling out to him. One word stopped Mac in his tracks.

_“Reaper!”_ Jack yelled.

His voice was solid, no nonsense. The word wasn’t a mistake. Mac slammed to a halt, Riley running into him with a soft ‘oof’ as she just stopped herself from landing on the floor. ‘Reaper’ was the one code word Jack had drilled into MacGyver from day one, made him swear to obey.

Back in Afghanistan Jack Dalton had looked MacGyver dead in the eyes on more than one occasion saying: “ _You ever hear me say Reaper, it means no hope. It’s radiation, it’s nerve gas. Its death, Mac. You hear me? I promise never to use it in any other circumstance, never. But you have to promise me one thing, I ever say ‘Reaper’ you run like hell and you don’t turn back.”_ And each time, he refused to break eye contact until he got Mac to swear. Nothing half-hearted, not allowed to even look away. He had to swear, and each time though his voice shook, Mac had. He’d sworn to leave Jack to die if he ever heard Jack use that code word.

Over six years, Jack had kept his promise. Jack had been shot, surrounded, kidnapped, tortured . . . and he’d never once abused that code word. He’d never once been tempted to use it to just keep Mac a little safer. He’d never used it.

_“Reaper, you hear me. Get out now! Leave me. It’s not safe.”_

Until now.

“Mac, what are you doing? Jack’s in trouble, we have to help him, come on.” Riley tried to push past Mac, force him further down the corridor.

Reaper. The word bounced around MacGyver’s skull, made his blood freeze along with his momentum.

“It’s not safe,” he whispered. “It’s not safe.” He locked his hand solidly around her wrist.

There was the sound of a single gunshot over the comms, then silence. Riley’s eyes widened, pleading with Mac. “What are you doing? Come on.” She twisted her arm with a quick yank, breaking Mac’s hold just as Thornton had trained her to do. She stepped back.

And then Jack began to scream, raw and terrifying and full of unimaginable pain, like nothing either of them had ever heard before. And despite promises, Mac nodded to Riley and they both ran toward the danger. It was Jack.

Reaper be damned.


	2. Rebirth

**Chapter 2: Rebirth**

Riley reached the room just ahead of Mac and they both quickly spotted the unassuming man. MacGyver couldn’t see Jack anywhere, but the unidentified man has his face pressed right up to the glass of what really did look rather like a giant snow globe, the inside of which was completely opaque with shifting white smoke. If he was a betting man, he’d bet Jack was inside it.

Riley ran headlong at the man, knocking him off his feet and landing on top of him as she pressed her full weight down into his neck and pulled an arm back behind his back in a painful-looking hold.

“Where’s Jack?” she growled.

“Let me up,” the man screeched. “I need to see.”

Mac beat his hands against the glass dome. “Jack? Jack? Are you in there? Can you hear me?” There was no response.

“What do we do, Mac?” Riley asked.

“Ugh,” Mac scrubbed his hands through his hair, trying to think. “There must be an exhaust or something to get the smoke out again, let me . . .” He didn’t finish his sentence, as the sound of an exhaust fan kicked in on its own.

“It’s all automated,” the stranger choked out. “Let me up. I demand to see!”

“Nope,” Riley stated. “Mac, can you get inside?”

Mac circled until he found what looked to be a door, but it was held firmly shut and there was no obvious lock. He kicked it, frustrated, reduced to simply watching as the smoke slowly cleared from the room. There, near the center of the room, was all of Jack’s clothing and equipment, including his tactical vest, boots . . . but nobody seemed to be wearing them.

Then his clothing sat up, headless. Mac blinked, rubbing at his eyes, not sure what he was seeing and starting to wonder if he’d been exposed to a hallucinogen or something. But the blue shirt and tactical vest started to wriggle and move around and then a small arm poked out of the neck, followed by another. There was a small grunt of frustration and then a head emerged, then a child’s torso. The kid had dark messy hair and big brown eyes under heavy-set eyebrows. The kid’s eyes turned to angry steel, as he looked up and suddenly caught sight of MacGyver on the other side of the glass.

“Mac?” The kid squeaked. “Don’t you ever listen?”

The child’s eyes suddenly grew wide with alarm, as he looked at his hands, clutched at his neck and then frantically swept his hands over his face and hair. He cleared his throat, his breath coming faster.

“What the hell?” he said.

“Jack?” Mac asked. “Is that you?”

As the smoke finally cleared the room, the door released with a small pop of an electromagnetic circuit. Mac pushed it fully open and entered the room, trying hard not to look in any way scary.

Behind him, Riley echoed the kid. “What the hell, Mac?”

This child version of Jack couldn’t be more than four or five years old. His whole body was quivering gently, with cold, pain or fear Mac couldn’t quite tell. Possibly a mix of all three. Mac knelt down in front of him, not quite sure what to do and not wanting to make anything worse.

“How about we get you out of there. Are you hurt? Can you stand up?” While his brain screamed at him that this was not possible, Mac forced himself to settle on the practical.

The kid, Jack, pushed up on wobbly hands and Mac slid him free of the tac vest, shirt and other articles of now impossibly large clothing. The naked little boy stood there still shivering, but appeared outwardly unhurt, so MacGyver retrieved the blue shirt (one of jack’s favourites) and wrapped the soft material around the kid toga-style.

“Mac?” he asked quietly. “I don’t feel so . . .”

Mac caught Jack’s suddenly very light little body, before it crumpled to the floor. He easily swung him up into his arms, relieved that he could feel Jack’s warm breath puffing against his cheek. He patted his cheek, realising now the sheer heat that was coming off him. Mac hadn’t been around a lot of kids recently, but he was sure they weren’t meant to run this hot. As he carried him outside of the dome, Riley was already updating Matty on comms.

“We need medical, Matty. But it’s going to have to be very discreet. I don’t think we want this getting out.”

“Matty,” Mac added, “Tell them he’s running a fever. I’ll meet them on the surface.”

Matty assured them a Phoenix medical team would be there as soon as possible.

The scientist was now zip tied on the floor, cackling and whooping. “I told you it’d work!”

“What did you do?” Riley spat, her eyes bouncing between the cackling scientist and the small child hanging limp in MacGyver’s arms. “What the hell did you do?” She looked vaguely nauseous as she turned back to Mac. “You get him to medical, Mac. I’ll catch up.”

Mac just nodded his head, clutching the all too precious bundle close to his chest as he quickly made his way out of the laboratory.

\----

On the surface, Mac waited impatiently in the heat of the day. In the sunlight, the resemblance of the small child in his arms to Jack was unmistakable. If someone had dropped him off on his door step claiming this kid was Jack Dalton’s son, Mac wouldn’t even question it. His gently rounded little face suddenly scrunched in pain and the little boy whimpered, panting as he clutched at MacGyver’s shirt and his small body started to shake more intensely. Mac could feel the kids heart beat fluttering wildly under his fingertips.

“Hey Jack, you’re safe. Help is coming. Hang in there,” Mac cooed into the dark mop of sweaty hair, running a soothing hand across the small back and hoping the medics were close now.

An inconspicuous unmarked Phoenix medical van pulled in at speed and the back doors flew open. MacGyver carefully handed over the floppy child to the medic inside and stepped in afterward as he slammed the doors shut behind him.

“He was awake for a moment before he passed out. He’s been unresponsive since, shaking, rapid pulse and fever.” Mac quickly filled the medic in as he tried to get out of their way as best he could and held on as the van pulled out from the parking lot at a rapid pace.

“We were told Dalton was injured. Who’s the kid? Any pre-existing conditions we should know about?” The medic, a lanky and extremely efficient Japanese man who mac recognised from previous exfils, was checking the kid’s ABC’s and pupillary response as he talked.

“All evidence points to the fact that this is Jack,” Mac answered seriously.

The medic paused, looked at Mac’s serious expression and, to his credit, simply turned back to his patient. “Alright then.” He reached for a drawer to his right and quickly extricated a butterfly needle, setting up a line. “Mac, we’ll need a smaller mask, to your left, green drawer.”

Mac fished out the pint-sized mask and settled it on Jack’s face, hooking it up to the tank the man gestured to. He settled out of the medic’s way near the top of the seemingly oversized gurney, running a gentle hand through the kid’s hair and stabilising his small shoulders when the van suddenly took a particularly wild turn.

The kid’s body suddenly tensed under Mac’s hands as he started to shake. His small body thrashed about, legs kicking and jerking. It felt to Mac like his heart jumped into his throat at that moment.

When Mac looked up, the medic was already calculating a dose of something to add to the bag of saline he’d hooked up. “His blood glucose has tanked,” he explained. “We get some glucose and electrolytes on board, this should stop. I know it looks bad, but just let it happen.”

Mac swallowed reflexively, watching the kid thrash about and knowing he was unable to help, but highly relieved the medic seemed to have everything in hand.

“Half an amp of dextrose 5,” Phil kept explaining patiently. I’m titrating it, not that you can push this too quickly, but also don’t want to go too far the other way when we don’t know what caused this.”

Mac nodded again, holding his breath as the thrashing started to slow, feeling the taught muscles begin to loosen under his hands, until the movement stopped and the kid, Jack, was once again all but still. MacGyver could see little Jack’s breath begin to fog the mask again in a regular pattern.

The trip from the labs to the waiting aeroplane that would take them the rest of the way to the Phoenix, even with a driver going hell bent for leather Mad Max style as they were, would take at least half an hour. Mac made himself take a deep calming breath, deliberately loosening his shoulders and trying to settle. He picked up a small hand in his own, marvelling at the tiny fingers.

“Can you explain what happened?” the medic asked. He was carefully applying leads to the boy’s chest, listening to the comforting rhythmic bleeping that represented the kid’s steady heartbeat, before silencing the monitor sounds. “Do I need to check you for a concussion, perhaps?”

Mac looked up and the medic smiled wryly, clearly only half-kidding. “Phil,” he offered MacGyver his name and reached his hand out. “We’ve met before, but in times of crisis, names aren’t usually important.”

“Mac.” They shook hands. “Thank you and I’m not sure I have any way to explain this, but I’m sure this is Jack.”

“Mmhmm,” Phil hummed. “Well we’ll monitor Jack’s glucose levels. He’ll need a full set of panels when we get to Phoenix. If what you say is true, then whatever biological process caused this could easily have burned up any available energy supplies. It might account for the sudden lack of glucose in his system. I assume Director Webber knows the full tale and will have Dr Willis on standby or should I radio ahead? He’s the only doctor on rotation that’s worked as a pediatrician and that’s only a fluke. Not much call for that in our line of work.”

Phil set to covering the kid with several blankets, settling him in.

“Yeah Matty knows.” 

MacGyver was still gently manipulating the small hand wrapped in his own when it twitched and then latched around Mac’s index finger. He looked down into confused big brown eyes as the kid whimpered under his mask and a few tears rolled down his face.

“Well, look who’s awake,” Phil stated, smiling gently down.

“Is it alright if I . . .” Mac gestured as he spoke and Phil nodded.

“Of course, go ahead.”

Mac scooted up onto the gurney and one small frightened-looking boy quickly curled into him for comfort, still gripping Mac’s hand as he ripped off the uncomfortable mask and buried his face into Mac’s shirt. Phil carefully extricated the IV line and wires before anything got pulled or tangled and he continued monitoring the boy, while Mac wrapped Jack in a warm cocoon of blankets. They stayed that way, rocking quietly, as the van continued its slightly erratic journey. 


	3. New Beginning

**Chapter 3: New Beginning**

MacGyver stayed close as Jack sat on a bed in medical slurping at a hot chocolate and hoeing into a peanut butter sandwich like he was starving. So far, despite several people’s attempts, this pint-sized version of Jack hadn’t said anything since he’d woken up. His big brown eyes just seemed to be taking in the world with careful consideration, one knee jiggling with pent up energy or anxiety Mac wasn’t sure, since he otherwise seemed listless.

Word had spread quickly about their small visitor and Mac had pulled the curtain closed around the bed, trying to keep out prying eyes, while the staff chased off anyone who shouldn’t be there. The curtain opened just enough for Doctor Willis to slide into their cordoned off space.

“Hey there, I’m Doctor Willis. How are you both doing today?” The doctor aimed his pleasant enquiry toward the child, but Jack simply continued to munch on his sandwich as he threw the man something like a suspicious glare.

“Uh, we’re a bit confused by the day’s events, Doc,” Mac answered instead. “I assume someone filled you in?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m just going to check you out after your accident there. How about we start with your name?” 

The Doc once again turned to Jack, whose little face was now creased in a worried expression. He looked to Mac as if for guidance.

“Hey the doctor is one of us, Jack. You can trust him.” Mac scooted closer to Jack, ready to offer comfort if required.

“Jack Junior, Sir,” the kid answered quietly. “My pawpaw is Jack Senior, so mostly everyone just calls me Junior or JJ, unless I’ve done something wrong and then they sometimes call me Jack Wyatt Dalton in a big loud voice because they’re angry.” The sentence seemed to come in a big rush, then Jack fell silent again. He was staring up at the doctor as if daring him to find his answer in some way incorrect.

The doctor blinked behind his thick glasses, taking a moment. Mac had a feeling he knew why this guy got out of pediatrics. He seemed to recover enough to ask another question. “Okay JJ, how are you feeling?”

“Hungry.” Jack waved his sandwich and grinned. “’s good.”

“Anything else?”

“Nooo?” The kid tilted his head, like he wasn’t sure of the question.

“Are you dizzy, feeling sick, does anything hurt?”

The doc sat down on the bed and pulled out a pen light, but Jack scooched away from the bright light with a grunt of annoyance and buried his face in Mac’s shirt refusing to let the man look.

The doctor sighed and scratched his balding head. “Maybe we should check out MacGyver here, first? Then you can see it’s nothing scary.”

\----

Matty and Bozer made their way to the medical at a steady clip. They’d been briefed by Riley over the comms while she’d organised the clean up crew, but it still sounded like an implausible magic trick. Surely no one could be de-aged to that extent. She often called Jack a child, but she’d never meant it literally. A thorough search by a larger team had still turned up no sign of a larger version of Jack and Riley seemed very clear on what she’d seen, even if she couldn’t explain it.

They picked up the pace as there was a yell from medical and a sudden flurry of movement. Matty simply pushed on through until she was standing in the doorway to the main room. The sight inside was unexpected to say the least. Doctor Willis stood stock still, holding one hand to a bleeding cut on his arm. In front of the doctor, MacGyver sat on a bed holding his hands up in a calming gesture and speaking in a low voice to a small dark-haired boy. The kid stood akimbo on the bed directly in front of MacGyver; his too-big paper hospital gown billowing out as he clutched a scalpel in one hand. The look in the child’s eyes could only be described as feral as he stared down the doctor.

“Hey now, come on JJ. Put it down. I’m fine. I’m fine. No one is trying to hurt me,” Mac was repeating, as he reached his hand toward the boy, trying to get his attention.

“I believe it now,” Bozer stated from where he stood behind Matty. “Looks like he’s trying to protect Mac.”

Matty had to agree. There was something about how the kid stood, held himself even, that just didn’t look right on a small boy, and she’d seen that exact look in Jack’s eyes before. Matty took a deep breath and mustered her most demanding tone; the same one her own mother had used on her as a child and the one that still worked wonders on fully trained professional soldiers and had once made Vladimir Putin cry.

“Jack Wyatt Dalton,” she stated. “What the hell are you doing? Put that down immediately.”

There was a moment of tense quiet as everyone in the room froze. The boy’s head swivelled towards Matty, taking in the angry lines of her body, her crossed arms and tapping foot. The kid dropped the scalpel, turned and backed up into Mac. His face scrunched up in a defensive frown and his lip began to wobble.

“He started it,” Jack stated, pointing to the doctor. “He was gonna hurt, Mac!”

Mac carefully reached forward and pulled the child into his lap, letting him bury his head in his shirt, soothing his hair, as this small version of Jack seemed to suddenly melt down and began to cry big heaving sobs.

Mac sighed and gave a gentle shrug to Matty, as his hands stroked soothingly across the kid’s back. “The doc was trying to show it was alright by taking my blood first,” he explained.

Matty sighed again and brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Of all the situations she had considered remotely possible today, or ever really, this one never even came close to the list.

\----

As Matty carefully ushered the doctor from the room, Bozer made his way to Mac’s side.

“Hey Jack,” he said quietly. “I brought a few things, clothes and stuff. Riley seemed to think size 4-5 would be about right.”

Bozer unzipped a small transformers backpack, revealing several parcels. There were certain advantages to living in L.A. and Bozer was not above giving his Phoenix-issued credit card a workout. Jack snuffled, but turned curious eyes to Bozer and the bag. He didn’t seem alarmed, so at a nod from Mac, Bozer started unpacking. There were Batman underwear, an ACDC t-shirt, a Dallas Cowboys baseball hat, some super soft trackpants, sneakers, socks, and a cute plush toy horse complete with a spotty behind and a very splendid mohawk of a mane.

“What do you think?” Bozer asked.

Jack snuffled loudly, but reached a tentative hand out toward the horse. Bozer just smiled and handed it over. He watched as the soft little horse disappeared into the space between Mac and Jack, the kid’s arms fully wrapped around it.

“He likes Junior,” Mac commented.

Bozer tilted his head. “You named the horse?”

“No, no, Jack Junior or JJ.” Mac shrugged slightly. “It’s . . . It’s what his parents called him.”

Bozer nodded, taking in the meaning behind the words and the somewhat panicked look that was all too visible in his best friend’s expression, despite Mac’s best attempt to hide it. This clearly wasn’t just the Jack they knew in a smaller package. What version of their friend was sitting in front of them now was still to be determined.

“Well, JJ. How would you like it if we finish up here, see if these clothes fit you and then you come home with Mac and me?”

JJ’s response was to look carefully from Bozer’s face, to the plush horse tucked into his arms and then up to Mac’s face. He wiped his tear-stained face on the little horse, nodded and gave Bozer a tentative smiled. 

\----

They’d been released, finally. After the incident in Medical, JJ had bravely offered his arm to the nurse and allowed his blood to be taken, though he refused to speak and just hid his face against Mac’s shirt. He got to pick a lollipop and chose a green one. His blood sugar hadn’t spiked or dropped in the last four hours and the staff had instructed MacGyver in how to check his blood glucose if there were any concerns and what to do if it dropped again.

Now tired and hungry, Mac, JJ and Bozer were all in Mac’s kitchen. Mac had managed to get JJ into a bath, then into some clean dinosaur pyjamas. (Mac chose not to ask how Bozer had managed to get so many necessary items for JJ in such a short period of time.) JJ now stood, clutching his stuffed horse to his chest and rubbing his tired eyes as he watched Bozer cooking up a simple spaghetti Bolognese.

Mac dialled Matty, waiting for the phone to connect. Behind him, there was a thwak sound as JJ let fly a piece of spaghetti at a nearby wall and giggled when it stuck.

“It’s ready!” Bozer exclaimed as he settled the kid on the counter top to help him grate some cheese up.

Mac quickly updated Matty. He then finished setting the table with plates and silverware as he listened to her update in return. The news wasn’t unexpected, but still felt like a blow somehow. None of their scientists had been able to make heads or tails of the data they’d recovered so far, let alone the machine or the cocktail of drugs that Jack had been subjected to. There was no telling if or when the older version of Jack could be returned and, if it were possible, it might not be ethical, easy or safe.

Mac swiped a shaky hand across his face as he closed the connection, feeling a loss and guilt all at once. Loss for his friend and protector and confidant, and guilt because Jack was still right here, just different. Smaller; more innocent. He turned to watch Bozer and JJ again, as Bozer made growling noises and chased JJ across the room to the couch, where they both retrieved some throw pillows for JJ to sit on at the table.

There was no doubt that the kid was a little spitfire. The incident at the infirmary was proof of that. Jack was in there and Mac steadied himself, smiling wistfully. Jack had always been his protector and now it was Mac’s turn to do the same for him. He wasn’t about to let this junior version of Jack down. Permanent or not, JJ was going to get the best second childhood Jack could ever have dreamed of.

“It’s ready, Mac.” JJ was suddenly right in front of Mac, tugging at his shirt front and holding up his arms for pick-up. “There’s lots of smelly cheese!” This last bit was said with a sheer excitement for overly smelly foods that only Jack had ever possessed. 

“Sounds amazing!” Mac exclaimed. He gave Bozer a wink as he swung JJ into his arms, settled him on his hip and made his way to the table. JJ immediately snuggled into Mac’s collar, his breath warm and comforting where it tickled against his skin. Jack had always been a tactile man, and it was no surprise that JJ was free and easy with his affection too. “Let’s eat, kiddo.” There was a tiny hitch in Mac’s voice, the long, weird day had his emotions running closer to the surface than usual. The juxtaposition of Jack and Jack Junior warring in his mind with every thought.

“You okay?” JJ asked, as he was settled into his cushion-booster seat and tucked in close to the table.

“Yeah, bud. Don’t you worry about me. I’m great,” Mac answered, tousling the kid’s wild dark brown mop of hair as he pulled his own chair out and settled down to eat with his two best friends. He felt his heart swell with the sheer need to protect JJ - this kid so small that his legs were swinging freely under the table and he needed two hands to get the spaghetti onto his fork, and yet so absolutely and undeniably Jack. “I promise we’re gonna be just fine,” Mac added.

And no matter what the future might have in store for them, Mac was sure of one thing; he always kept his promises.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I decided the universe needed some kid!Jack stories, so I wrote one. I know this story is a lot of setup. I hope to write more in this little universe (hence starting a series), because cuteness and angst are fabulous companions. Thanks to my friendly neighbourhood MacGyver whump squad for all your enabling and for giving me the bravery to post this at all. You know who you are and you all rock!
> 
> Friendly reminder I use Australian English. Any comments including constructive ones always welcome. Thanks for reading!


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